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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547566">Spectrums of Failure</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/pseuds/mobilisinmobili'>mobilisinmobili</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cross My Heart and Hope You Die [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempted Murder, BAMF Alex Rider, Best Friends, Blood and Gore, Dysfunctional Family, Friends Don't Let Friends Be Murdered, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Manipulative Relationship, Not Canon Compliant, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rescue Missions, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Tom Harris is the Best, Tulip Jones is the New Head, Wolf Has a Heart, Yassen Gregorovich Lives, Yassen Gregorovich is Scary As Fuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:33:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25547566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/pseuds/mobilisinmobili</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never meant to be a punishment per se. More of 'learning experience' if anything. At least, that's what Mrs. Jones had said before shipping him back off to Beacons.<br/>.<br/>Or<br/>.<br/>Yassen gives Alex a refresher on just what it takes to survive, and K-Unit gets to learn some very interesting facts about their unofficially official fifth member</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alan Blunt &amp; Alex Rider, Alex Rider &amp; Ian Rider, Alex Rider &amp; Jack Starbright, Ben "Fox" Daniels &amp; Alex Rider, K-Unit &amp; Alex Rider, Tom Harris &amp; Alex Rider, Tulip Jones &amp; Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich &amp; Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich &amp; K-Unit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cross My Heart and Hope You Die [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The "dysfunctional guardian Yassen Gregorovich" fic that no one asked for~<br/>__________________________________________________________________________________<br/>(Not connected to the "Double-0-Everything and Nothing at All" universe/storyline)<br/>Fic inspo: Panic Room - Au/Ra<br/>*Italics are past convos</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"How old did you say he was again?" Koala asked half-heartedly, staring warily out the two-way mirror and into the dingy cinder block interrogation room where Alex sat, flickering uncomfortably back into consciousness.</p><p>"Twenty I think? Twenty-one? Real young." Eagle answered in uncharacteristic solemnity, eyeing the man sitting across the metal table. He looked every bit as dangerous as he did in the other photos they'd seen in the lectures over the years. </p><p>Yassen Gregorovich. The ruthless, <em> internationally known </em> assassin née top-level SCORPIA operative, in the flesh in the middle of Beacons like it <em> wasn’t </em> the most bizarre situation <em> ever </em>. </p><p>Especially with the fact that <em> he </em>was the MI6 sanctioned interrogator and not the other way around. </p><p>“And Gregorovich-”</p><p>“It’s a SI matter. We’re just here to make sure Cub stays put.” Wolf muttered, arms crossed in <em> clear </em>disapproval at the entire situation at hand. </p><p>It was almost cruel. </p><p>Like they were being taunted on their own home turf. </p><p>
  <em> “Look, Wolf. I don’t know, alright? Jones didn’t specify and when she doesn’t specify, you don’t ask. It’s just like that. No questions asked.” </em>
</p><p>It had been the short explanation Ben had given when he had accompanied the two via transport helicopter, with Gregorovich walking <em> concerningly </em> free while the younger spy had to be wheeled out, unconscious, and <em> still </em> cuffed to the cold metal of the MI6 issued wheelchair, and he did <em> not </em>look good.   </p><p>He looked ill. </p><p>That much was more than evident to Snake even before being handed a decently lengthy file labeled ‘medical’. </p><p>“<em>He got back from a mission two-ish weeks ago. We don’t know what happened, but the agent, assigned security duty for his recoup period, Victor Lawrence, noticed he was starting to act suspiciously. Had a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the night. Apparently the guy went to go look when he didn’t come down for breakfast. Found him passed out in the tub. The half-full</em> <em>tub. He almost drowned.”</em></p><p>
  <em> “Was it a psychotic break down?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That’s what 6’s medical decided on. So he got prescribed something, some sort of antipsychotic and an anti-anxiolytic. The logs said that Alex took it for four, maybe five days? And then he-uh...he-”  </em>
</p><p>Wolf could still see the inexplicable look of genuine confusion-morphed-horror in the spy’s eyes as he struggled to find proper words to explain just what the <em> hell </em>had happened. </p><p>
  <em> “Did he try to-was it a suicide attempt?”  </em>
</p><p>He could remember the way his mouth had gone oh so <em> uncomfortably </em> dry at the <em> awful </em>words. But it was nothing compared to the blood-chilling reply. </p><p>
  <em> “I stopped by before work in the morning yesterday to drop off some paperwork Jones asked me to deliver. And just to check up, you know, casual stuff. Especially since Harris came back for Christmas holiday a week ago, on the tenth, right around when Alex got prescribed his meds; when he was his most lucid in terms of his mental state. But I got to the house and no one answered but I got myself in.”  </em>
</p><p>Wolf hadn’t missed the way Ben gripped and ungripped his hands into fists, actively working to keep himself grounded and objective. </p><p>Like the bloody spy, he was. </p><p>
  <em> “It was freezing inside. Like just as cold as it was outside, and it had snowed a bit the night before so it was already cold as fuck as it was. I’ve got my gun out and I’ve signaled for backup before moving. It’s dead silent and out of nowhere, I hear this small ‘thud’ in the kitchen so I go and I get to the kitchen and the windows are all open and he’s just sitting on the countertop covered in blood having a cup of coffee staring off into empty space. And I swear Wolf-you’ve been over to Cub’s place. You know it’s got a pretty small kitchen- a good two-thirds of the floor was covered in blood. I’m talking, moved around while bleeding out, type covered, alright? And the guy-Lawrence- he’s sitting on one of the kitchen table chairs with this huge slash across his throat that’s got his head flopped over the chair back.” </em>
</p><p> Wolf <em> still </em>couldn’t decide what was worse. </p><p>The fact that Alex had seemingly gone off the rails in the <em> worst </em>possible way, or the fact that there was more. Equally disturbing in its own twisted way. </p><p>
  <em> “And if that wasn’t unnerving enough, the guy’s got his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee like he entered rigor mortis holding it. Forensics had to break his fingers to drop the mug.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You think he poured the guy a mug after killing him?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yeah.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Jesus…”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “But it gets worse.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Worse how…?” </em>
</p><p>He had had <em> absolutely </em> no clue that ‘worse’ could have ever ended up being so <em> unthinkably </em>disturbing in its implication and it had thrown him for a painfully uncomfortable loop as his brain refused to wrap itself around the brutal truth of the matter. </p><p>The well-deserved reason for the bizarre situation unfolding in front of his very own eyes. </p><p>
  <em> “He asked me if I wanted some coffee.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Did you?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I told him not to worry about it, and he seemed fine with that answer so I asked him if he’d seen Victor around anywhere, and he said he hadn’t seen him. That he was probably sleeping in a bit because he stayed up after they had a late dinner and some drinks to finish some paperwork .” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They as in-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Him, Victor, and Tom. So apparently they ordered takeout and had a few late-night beers. So I asked him if Tom was sleeping in as well, and he said that Tom was taking a bath.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Bath…?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “A bath, at six-thirty in the morning. You can see how I found that a little fucking concerning, yeah?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Heavily noted.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Straight up terrifying up to this point, but he stayed put with his coffee and answered all of my questions, so it’s good. It’s safe-as safe as it could be anyway. But the moment he saw back up-well technically it was their guns that set him off. He freaks out, throws the mug and it hits the lead’s gun and that understandably freaked the agent out so he fired but it hit the cabinet close to his head and he pulls a gun out of nowhere all of a sudden and it had them at a stalemate so the guy at the very back went around and came up the back yard entrance and managed to get a tranq hit but he managed to get a shot on the first guy. A good one at that, front and center on his sternum.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ouch…”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “But that was about as far as injuries went before he finally passed out. Got him situated in the back of one of the cars headed back to Vauxhall before I went back in and got upstairs to the bathroom with a medic just in case.” </em>
</p><p><em> “I almost don’t want to know...I mean, weren’t the two really close? Grew up together and everything, right?”   </em> </p><p>
  <em> “They are. Lived together for something like three years? After Alex officially joined and got granted his emancipated status. But here’s the twist, he wasn’t dead.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Go on…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The door was locked but the light was on and we could hear the water running but it was starting to seep out from under the door. So we rammed the door in and low and behold, Harris wasn’t there. We checked his room and it definitely looked like there’d been a skirmish or something because his duvet was on the floor under a chair that got knocked down.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And we found his phone cracked under the bed.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No blood?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No blood. But forensics did say that it looked like he got dragged out by the path of items and damage.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He wasn’t in the house? Cub has that shed he converted to an office, right?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We checked everywhere, but we couldn’t find him. It was the first thing we asked about when he woke up, a little past dinner time, and it set him off. Went into a full-blown panic attack rambling about the tub and how Tom couldn’t be dead because he hadn’t actually stabbed him anywhere vital and how ‘they’ probably took Tom because he didn’t follow the instructions properly.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Christ… What got him so unstable?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We haven’t got a single clue yet. They took some blood to do a panel but that’s going to take another day or two, and 6 are combing through his house as we speak so we’ll just need to sit tight for a bit.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “So where does Gregorovich come into all of this? Why’s he not locked up in Vauxhall somewhere?”     </em>
</p><p>The answer had been more than unsatisfactory, bringing them full circle back to the situation at hand. </p><p>The metallic clanking of the handcuffs on the table reverberated jarringly around the room, giving the spy the extra push he needed to pull himself in the realm of consciousness, groggy and disoriented from the lingering dredges of whatever they had given him, and in considerable pain going by the way he winced, biting down hard and tensing his jaw. </p><p>It took a moment for his brain to work through and register his surroundings, but the moment it did, he froze. Eyes widening in marked shock and raw fear as he flinched, desperately trying to get himself as far from the man as he could in his given state. </p><p>“Oh, Sasha-” Gregorovich sighed almost fondly, surveying the blond with an <em> uncomfortably </em>familiar sharpness.  “What an unruly mess you’ve made…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Where am I…?" Alex rasped, trying his best to shake the last of the drug fueled grogginess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look for yourself." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spy's hazy eyes roamed the small space, taking in the dingy walls and grey cement flooring. And then of course there was the mirror on the wall behind where Yassen sat across the metal table. The light above was brighter than most, not the cliche single bulb but a jarringly bright flood light, purposefully chosen, no doubt, to add to the intimidation factor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was familiar, but then again they were all pretty much the same and after a while, interrogation rooms tended to blur together in his memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this one was different. He'd been here more than once before. That, he was almost certain of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the door. He'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>remembered the door, because the door handle was </span>
  <em>
    <span>markedly</span>
  </em>
  <span> different than any of the other interrogation rooms he'd been in before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where </span>
  </em>
  <span>his brain had decided to keep the little snippet of information and </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he hadn't the foggiest. But it was true. Something about the door handle was different and that alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>have already computed everything, but whatever they had given him before transporting him out of St. Doms was wreaking havoc on his brain's ability to process things, going around and around like the goddamn loading icons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The bank…?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of the blue and he probably sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid, but with the information that he had in the mental state he was in, it made the most sense. He was still in the UK, the door assured him of that. And going by the lights, he was somewhere that could afford to make such deliberate choices. That only left a handful of choices, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>none </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them could account for why </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yassen Gregorovich </span>
  </em>
  <span>was sitting in front of him. Why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>assassin </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn't cuffed to the table but </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was baffling, honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Explain." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I remember the door handle. We're still in the country." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yassen didn't remark, observing in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've-I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>been here before. More than once. But you shouldn't be here. They would never-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know better than to believe in definites, Sasha." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had Alex snapping his mouth shut, flinching briefly at the sharp chiding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Vaux-</span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hit him all at once, overwhelming his brain with an onslaught of sharpened memories. He knew where he was. Knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>where he was down to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Brecon Beacons." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yassen nodded brusquely. "That is correct." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex took in a sharp breath, jaw clenching against the sudden race of adrenaline in his veins. It was starting to make him feel a bit nauseous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was at Beacons, not in 6's own containment, and not back at home as Ben assured him he'd be after they ran a few tests. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what of Yassen? How did </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>end up in a special forces camp with so much freedom…? Why hadn't he been arrested? Or better yet, why hadn't six made him '</span>
  <em>
    <span>disappear</span>
  </em>
  <span>'. It would be arguably the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>opportunity they would get to capture him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the golden question, one he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>no clue of how or what to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you remember where you were before now?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"St. Dominic's." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And before then?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen before then? He remembered getting changed into the stiff hospital pajama set Ben had handed over. And then the IV and the first few vials of blood. And then he </span>
  <em>
    <span>vaguely </span>
  </em>
  <span>remembered laying down. He must have taken a nap because he remembered having the strangest moment of sleep paralysis, when Ben had let him know they only had a few more tests to run before he'd get to go back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he woke up </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That was it. That was as far as he could recall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was at home." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man caught his bluff immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You do not remember." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex sat in blank faced silence a moment before nodding stiffly, avoiding Yassen's eyes. That alone told the assassin everything he needed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is Agent Lawrence?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That caught Alex's attention, bringing him back to focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" His brows furrowed in genuine confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Victor Lawrence. Your security. Where is he?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Back at Vauxhall? I'm here so he should be here as well unless he was given new orders...I mean-is he missing or…?" He could help the sudden anxious fumbling, something he'd recently started doing quite a lot of. His racing thoughts at odds with the speed at which he could put them into proper sentences before his thoughts would derail. Like something was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>connecting…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only got worse when he was anxious or stressed. Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful </span>
  </em>
  <span>when it stormed as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And Tom Harris?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about Tom…?" A sudden chill went down his spine at the mention. Tom was a civilian. He didn't belong in conversations in interrogation rooms. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>coming out of the mouth of one of the most lethal criminals he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, who was to say Yassen didn't already know? Maybe it was a method of manipulation made to trip him up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then what was the motive? Especially in the unorthodox location. Even if they were on SAS grounds, six would undoubtably still be in control. But why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gregorovich </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people be working with six? Would SI even be </span>
  <em>
    <span>allowed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to use such a connection? Could internationally wanted terrorists work under a CI status? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were so many racing fragments of questions but only one remained rooted in terrifying clarity. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where's Tom?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He had come back not too long ago for break. So logically, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be at home, hibernating like a normal exhausted uni student. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So was he not home? Had he gone missing? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"-sha. Look at me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm…?" He snapped out of it as his train of thought immediately derailed once more, throwing him out of his anxious thoughts. He blinked, meeting Yassen's gaze with a hazy one of his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is Tom Harris?" The man repeated evenly, searching for something. His cold unwavering regard making Alex want to squirm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'m not sure...I-I don't know." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chilling silence descended, plunging the already cold room into deeper temperatures as he continued to squirm under the scrutiny before his panicked mind jumped to 'fight'. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is this? Why-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first few rambled words popped out of their own accord before his brain caught up to clench his mouth shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is an intervention, Alexander. For the murders you have committed."</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>-Key Points-<br/>*Alex/Tom are both 19 (Eagle was wrong).<br/>*Mrs. Jones is the Head of MI6.<br/>*Koala is K-Unit's new 4th member.<br/>*Sasha is a nickname for Alexander.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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